Chapter 610: The Immortal

One day in heaven equals one year on earth.

Today in the mortal realm corresponds to the Queen Mother of the West's birthday in the Heavenly Court.

The Peach Banquet is currently underway.

Dongfang Shuo was deeply frustrated at this moment.

Since a few years ago, he had been eagerly anticipating this grand event.

Beyond the thrill of attending such a famed gathering of the Three Realms for the first time, his greater longing was for the peaches and immortal wine.

Gather the Five Phases, harmonize the Four Symbols.

Xia Shiyu had hidden her belongings, but entering the Dead Leaf Forest was no longer as simple as wrapping them around her waist; she thought for a moment, then tied the bell to a silk ribbon and bound it to her wrists and ankles—here, even if it fell off during battle, she would easily notice and have time to retrieve it.

"Dear surface dweller, don't you want the subterraneans to help you surface dwellers end your war?" The princess's voice came from behind me.

Zheng Jia endured a miserable childhood and barely earned what he has today—I cannot and will not gamble his life.

Xu Ran truly didn't care; Jiang Gui had been in this industry for so long—he must take responsibility for his own choices; that is the duty of an adult.

The other colleagues in Group A, upon hearing Xu Ran's discussed project, nodded knowingly if they understood the gaming industry, but those who didn't were stunned—yet all of them now regarded Xu Ran with new respect.

As an object from outside this world, its fundamental existence clashed utterly with this world; the native realm constantly rejected it. This is why things from other worlds cannot easily descend into this one.

Lü Tianming was speechless—he had expected his master to obliterate them outright, not to order him to act and test his combat ability.

The rest of the conversation was dull, but during this time, Chen Fei's two sisters said one sentence to the wife of a nearby couple that sent chills down Ye Ji's spine.

Zhi Zuo bowed deeply to Sheng Tian: "Thank you, Palace Battle God, for sparing my life—thank you, thank you!" Sheng Tian laughed: "Brother Zhi Zuo, you're too kind." After exchanging a few more polite words, Zhi Zuo floated away to search for his brother Zhi You, while Sheng Tian and the others continued deeper into the Soul-Cutting Valley.

Yang Fan crouched on the ground, staring at the eight corpses, coldly asking: "Captain Qian, who led the archers who fired into the house?" He brushed his hands lightly, his expression calm.

In response to the black-armored elder's question, Li Sen had merely intended to buy time, so he'd mustered some energy to reply briefly—but he never expected to hear such words.

After falling silent, the two heard the wind and the sound of shifting sand—normal in the desert—but there was a third sound: footsteps.

"Old man, another year's passed. Has Yangzi's phone been answered yet?" Yang Da Ma, barely fifty, already had half her hair turned white, her eyes swollen from crying—she had wept without cease for years, her face gaunt.

A white figure hovered in the void, like an imperceptible raindrop breaking free from the tornado's grip, plummeting swiftly to land atop the mountain peak.

Chu Tian made no attempt to dodge—only raised his hand and slapped it down; the force struck an invisible wall and was entirely blocked one meter away from him.

"Let's return—I'm uneasy about Meng'er." Han Bing, burdened by concern, could only reluctantly abandon the pursuit.

The villagers heard a divine physician had come to the village—centuries of lineage, ancestors who had served as imperial physicians, even treated the Empress Dowager—and they gathered curiously outside, eager to catch a glimpse of the imperial doctor.